


Love is stored in the quokka

by Anonymous



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Attempt at Humor, Back at it again with a weird ass plot, Bad Cooking, Banter, Boys Kissing, Comedy of Errors, Declarations Of Love, Displays of affection, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Humor, Han Jisung | Han & Lee Felix are Best Friends, Han Jisung | Han is a Mess, Han jisung is a disaster gay, I Don't Even Know, Kind of literally, Lee Felix is a Little Shit (Stray Kids), Light-Hearted, M/M, Not me posting a vday fic the day before lmao, Slice of Life, Tagging this is gonna be an adventure, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Why Did I Write This?, background chanlix, banter as flirting, boyfriends!MinSung, inspired by the walmart valentine's day quokka plushie, jisung can’t cook to save his life, lee minho is a good boyfriend, minho is smooth, sadly a quokka plush was harmed in the making of this fic, there is a quick and harmless kitchen fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29409537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Cheers, to the best Valentine’s Day yet.”Unable to quell his cheek-splitting grin, Jisung found his own can of pop, and clinked it against Minho’s. Aluminum clanged, making lukewarm bubbles burst.“Cheers,” Said Jisung.He finally,finallykissed Minho on his cat-smile lips, tasted the olive chicken on his breath, humming as if life is absolutely perfect.And, in spite of that scorched quokka plush and the blackened pan in the kitchen sink, it most definitely is.Jisung pulled away, but only for a moment. Only to whisper,“To the best Valentine’s Day yet.”Or: Jisung certainly didn't expect his Valentine’s Day evening to include a fire-fighting stuffed quokka, and the (not terribly romantic) scream of his smoke alarm. But, despite all the mishaps, Jisung and Minho end up havingquitethe date night to remember.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han & Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 17
Kudos: 81
Collections: Anonymous





	Love is stored in the quokka

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was inspired by the literal valentine's day quokka plush that walmart unironically carries in real life ! Idk why it’s a thing but....enjoy ^^

It’s Valentine’s Day, and Jisung is .01 second away from losing his marbles. 

__

“Wait, wait, wait,” He squawked into his phone, sandwiched uncomfortably between his ear and a raised shoulder, as he fiddled with the knob of the burner. He accidentally turned it a tad too high, and the flames of the range gnawed hungrily at the nonstick pan simmering away. “You’re going _way_ too fast, dude!” 

__

Jisung yelped at the sight of such wild heat, no doubt about to burn his precious hardwork, and, in his haste to lower the degree, lost his grip on his phone. It clattered to the floor, a dull thump as his grimey case absorbed most of the fall. 

__

Already off to a great start, isn't he. 

__

“—for a minute or two. Did you get that?” He caught the tail end of Felix’s reply once he snatched his phone from the tiles, electing to set the call on speaker mode to avoid any more unfortunate spills. 

__

Jisung chomped on his bottom lip, rapidly becoming overwhelmed with it all. There’s too many ingredients and too many utensils and too many moving parts and he _kinda_ wants to rock in a fetal position on the floor right about now. How is he gonna get through this?! Jisung can barely boil a pot of water without threatening a fire! He can barely _pour_ himself a glass without spilling half the damn bottle!

__

Yet, despite this, his foodie buddy Felix is attempting to guide Jisung through a (supposedly) simple rose pasta dish. Emphasis on _attempting._ He’s already sautéed chopped onions and garlic, currently browning up nice and fragrant in the pan, but Jisung knows he is _far_ from out of the woods. It just dawned on him that some of the slices of onion are beginning to crisp into an unpleasant shade of brown-black, and he scrambled to lower the heat once again. Some stray wisps of smoke made the tip of his nose itch. 

__

_Damnit,_ it’ll be a miracle if he doesn’t burn his apartment down before Minho arrives.

__

Famous last words, perhaps. 

__

But he _cannot_ do that. Besides the whole… _‘destroying your place of residence being bad’_ thing _,_ Minho is bearing _gifts_ this evening. And since Minho is not one for receiving gifts himself, Jisung offered the next best thing–whipping up dinner. Which was, admittedly, against his better judgement. 

__

Minho even made a point of texting Jisung early yesterday morning, though, announcing that he picked up something _extra_ special as a Valentine’s gift. Jisung’s heart just about shot off like a firework when he read it.

__

What could Minho have gotten for him? It must be something _really_ nice, if he chose to tease it through text _._ Maybe it’s a new sweater? Or couple bracelets? 

__

It’s that _what if_ , that oh-so tantalizing unknown that’s making Jisung’s palms so very clammy. To the point where he has to white knuckle grip his mincing knife, lest it slip from his fingers.

__

So, given that, the last thing Jisung wants is for his lovely boyfriend to walk in on the smoldering ruins of his flat. 

__

Which is easier said than done, when Jisung is involved. 

__

“No, I didn’t get that!” He wailed, running a frantic hand through his hair. The strands are quickly dampening with sweat, clumping together and gradually ruining all the effort he put into styling his mop earlier. Well, _that’s_ thirty minutes of straightening and parting gone to waste. Jisung groaned, “I dropped my phone, Lix. You gotta say it all over again.” 

__

He could _hear_ Felix rolling his eyes through the phone. Jisung’s cheeks reddened, skin warming until his blush mimicked the glow of the range. 

__

“You’re hopeless.” Felix mused, that incredibly deep voice of his doing little to soothe Jisung’s nerves. 

__

His eyes bugged at such a remark. Jisung argued, indignantly, “I’m not hopeless! I’m...I’m cookin’ a _sauce,_ Felix! A _sauce!_ I’ve never cooked a fucking _sauce_ before. Who am I, Gordon Ramsey?!” The gall of his best friend, Jisung thought. 

__

Felix laughed, slightly crackling from the poor connection quality. “It’s really not that hard. I said to add the cream now, and stir for a minute or two.” 

__

Sounds simple enough, he thought naively. 

__

“How...much?” Jisung asked, as if terrified of the reply. 

__

Felix is probably tapping at his chin with a stubby little finger right now, gaze darting away to his ceiling as he ponders. “Just a pinch?” He settled on.

__

Jisung’s eye twitched. “A _pinch?”_ He repeated. 

__

“Yup.” Said Felix, playfully popping the _‘p’._

__

Jisung is suddenly overcome with the urge to tear his (once _perfectly_ coiffed) hair out. “A pinch isn’t a real measurement! How much is a fucking _pinch!?”_

__

Felix made some kind of pitchy, noncommittal grunt. “A pinch is a pinch, man. You just gotta feel it in your _soul_ when it’s enough.” 

__

_Feel it in my soul,_ Jisung thought back with a scowl. Maybe this is what he deserves, for seeking out Felix Lee instead of Google. He treats cooking like it’s a magic potion, or something! What’s next, instructing Jisung to add an eye of bat and tail of newt? Why didn’t he just print a fucking _recipe_ for such an important night?! 

__

“ _Whatever,”_ Jisung huffed, wearily, uncapping the carton of heavy cream. He poured in a generous amount, until he ‘felt it in his soul’, surely more than a _pinch,_ and mixed up the contents with a wooden spoon. Goddamn cooking, for being so unnecessarily stressful. Goddamn Valentine’s Day expectations, for making him sweat through his dress shirt—that he _specifically_ picked out for tonight, no less! 

__

Jisung sighed, and dejectedly stirred the ingredients. 

__

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Lix! The _only_ day of the year dedicated to romance. _Literally!_ Minho already got me a gift, and this dinner has to be _perfect,_ but I have no _idea_ what I’m doing.” He whimpered, wiping the beads off his forehead with the back of his wrist. 

__

Felix hummed, nonplussed with Jisung's dramatics. “He probably just bought you some chocolates. You know he’s not into the flashy stuff.” 

__

Jisung grumbled, “Maybe. Probably.” 

__

_“And_ you know Minho wouldn’t give two shits if dinner turned out well or not.” He can sense Felix exaggeratedly puckering up his lips. His friend cooed into the phone, grating through the low sound quality, “‘Cause he _looooves_ you!” 

__

Jisung’s blush intensified. Is there a reason Felix knows his boyfriend as well as he himself does? Jisung isn’t out here spouting facts about Chan! 

__

He just remembered to increase the heat, and chose to paw at the knob rather than immediately respond. Felix is right, though.

__

Minho isn't into the flashy stuff. 

__

And Minho loves him. Very much. 

__

“Yeah, yeah.” Jisung mused with a lighthearted huff, “I just wanna make it nice for him, is all.” 

__

Jisung cracked a slightly self indulgent smile at the thought of it, their love, his wonderful boyfriend mere minutes away. Dinner preparations may be making his stomach churn, but he’s gonna make this the best Valentine’s Day ever, goddamnit! 

__

Oh fuck.

__

Minho is probably _actual_ minutes away. Literal minutes. They agreed on 7:30 for their date at Jisung’s flat, and the clock on his microwave _just_ struck 7:26 p.m. He’ll be here any given second, and dinner isn’t even _close_ to ready; curse his tendency for poor time management! 

__

Jisung’s dopey expression quickly shifted to a wince. He slapped his hands onto the counter, bearing down on his phone left unattended by the knife block, and cried, “Felix! Minho will be here soon, what do I do next?!” 

__

“Oh! Next you should add the tomato sau—” Felix abruptly stopped instructing, his velvety voice trailing off into quiet, which struck a bolt of fear through Jisung’s heart. 

__

“Sorry, Sung.” Felix quipped a few seconds later, not sounding sorry in the _slightest._ “Channie is asking me to get off now. It’s time for us to start our annual Valentine’s Day Twilight marathon, and you know how impatient he gets when I keep him waiting.” 

__

No, Jisung does not know. He does not know at all. He whined, “You can’t go yet, Felix! I still don’t know what I’m _doing!”_

__

Felix’s indifference is almost palpable. “Don’t know what to tell ya, Sungie. You can handle it I’m sure! I gotta run, though,” He said, and Jisung’s heart began to quiver. 

__

“Have a great night with Minho. Talk to you later!” 

__

Jisung seethed, “Tell Chan he’s a goth poser, My Immortal ass nerd—”

__

“Will do!” Chirped Felix, completely unphased at Jisung’s tirade, and promptly hung up the line. 

__

Jisung sighed again. “Bye.” He mumbled to no one in the overtaking silence in the kitchen. 

__

He then made the mistake of just standing there, motionless before the stove, for a few precious minutes. Collecting his frantic thoughts, or something. 

__

And those minutes added up. Because, right as Jisung was about to _finally_ spur himself to reach for the jar of fresh tomato purée, there is a round of knocking at the door. 

__

Jisung’s gaze shot to the neon digits on the microwave interface; it is 7:42 p.m. 

__

Minho is fashionably late, as always. 

__

_“Shit,”_ Jisung hissed, as he found the furiously boiling pan on the burner. It’s almost done, right? Yeah. Sure. Definitely. It’s _almost_ done, which is just as good as...done! So all he has to do is add some final ingredients, blah blah blah, he’s sure Minho will _happily_ lend him a helping hand later on. As long as there’s no imminent disaster bearing down on him, Jisung will consider it a victory.

__

All that matters right now, in this moment, is that Minho is _here._

__

Suddenly extremely giddy to welcome his boyfriend, Jisung fervently mussed his hair, wiped off his sweat with a clean dish towel, and skipped to the door once he deemed himself _somewhat_ presentable. 

__

Jisung was _so_ blinded by familiar love and glee, in fact, that he forgot to flick off the active burner. The flames licked at the pan as Jisung left, creamy bubbles rolling and roaring, but still conveniently ignored by the boy. 

__

He threw open the door, and is faced with Minho standing coolly in the threshold, hip propped against the frame. Jisung is met with Minho, completely, and that is to say he is met with one of the few living, breathing wonders of this earth. 

__

“Hey, babe!” Jisung exclaimed, a cheek bunching grin already blooming at the sight of the love of his life. 

__

Minho looks absolutely _impeccable,_ though that is no surprise. His rich brown hair is swept off his brows, reflecting honey blonde in the fluorescent hallway lights. His tight jeans put his muscular thighs on full display, while his faux-leather moto jacket shows off the perfect width of his shoulders. A dip of creamy skin is visible down the front of his white blouse, the top buttons left decidedly open and decidedly causing Jisung’s heart rate to _spike._

__

Jisung’s boyfriend is so incredible. And pretty. And incredibly pretty. _Fuck._

__

Jisung just remembered that he looks like he, casually, just crawled out of a trench. 

__

“Hi, love.” Said Minho, gracefully pushing off the door frame. He looked at Jisung, eyes soft and sparkling and adorning. He soon observed, “You’re all sweaty.” 

__

Jisung choked for a _split_ second, before forcefully regaining his composure. He scoffed, clearly good natured, and ushered Minho inside. “Wow, thanks. Happy Valentine’s Day to you too.” 

__

Minho laughed, so sweet and so melodic, like a classic song that causes something intrinsic within you to want to dance. He turned, and planted a loud smooch on Jisung’s temple. “You look cute _and_ sweaty.” 

__

Jisung blinked up at him, eyes wide and enamoured. “More cute, though?”

__

Minho grinned like the Cheshire Cat, “Definitely more cute, baby.” He kissed Jisung again, on the cheek this time. He’s sure Minho tasted the dried sweat on his skin, yet he made no move to pull away. 

__

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Sungie.” His boyfriend mused once the peck is broken, leaving Jisung’s face flushing vibrant, paper-heart red. Red like a box of chocolates, tied with a bow. Red like the blood in his veins, warming and warming now that he and Minho are together again. 

__

Minho’s been here for five minutes, if that, and Jisung already feels like he’s hovering, soaring, falling for him all over again. 

__

His boyfriend stepped back a bit, and something clutched in his hand caught the living room lights and shimmered. Drawn to the pink iridescence like a cat after a laser pointer, Jisung followed such a gleam until he found the culprit: a large magenta gift bag, the braided pink handles tied around Minho’s dainty fingers, printed with glittering pastel pink hearts. 

__

His own heart jumped with excitement; Jisung _totally_ forgot about the gift Minho mentioned, with how caught up he got cooking dinner! 

__

Minho must have noticed his eyes trained on the tote, and his expression brightened just as quickly. His smile is the definition of radiant, curling the corners of his lips.

__

“Here,” Minho said, as if some kind of cliche anime bad boy, pushing the bag into Jisung’s hands without warning. He cocked a satisfied brow, “Open your gift, babe.” 

__

Jisung squeaked as he clumsily took the offered bag, his chest rattling from such wild anticipation. What could be _in_ here, he thought? It’s _big,_ so it’s gotta be _something_ relatively fancy. Maybe it _is_ a pair of couple sweaters, after all! 

__

“T-thanks, Min,” Jisung’s blush crept down to his neck, “You really shouldn’t have.” 

__

Minho shrugged, _so_ cool and nonchalant that Jisung almost swooned to the floor. “It reminded me of you, so I couldn't help myself.” He explained, quirking an expectant brow. 

__

Realizing he’s kept them in suspense long enough, Jisung unceremoniously plunged his hand within the bag. His tongue poked between his lips as he rooted around, fishing under piles of lilac tissue paper, until his fingers latched onto _it._

__

Jisung’s eyes widened, as he gripped something very... _fluffy._

__

As he tightened his fingers on the gift, he came to a conclusion; it’s not just _fluffy,_ it’s _furry._

__

Confusion knocking on the door of his lovestruck brain, Jisung finally wrenched whatever was hiding beneath the gift paper out and into the open. 

__

He expected a teddy bear. You know, one holding a heart between its paws. One with blush on its fuzzy cheeks. It’s a Valentine’s Day staple after all, just as cute and cuddly as it is typical. 

__

But it is very much _not_ a teddy bear. And it is very much _not_ typical. 

__

It’s a large brown plush critter, with nubby ears, a wide nose, and beady glass eyes. It gazed up at Jisung with those black, all seeing eyes, it’s stubby snout open in what appears to be a beaming little smile. There’s a heart shaped tag punched through an ear, bouncing off pink shine when Jisung shifts it in hand. 

__

Jisung stared at the stuffed creature, and his forehead pinched. 

__

He whispered, “It’s a…”

__

Giant hamster? Oversized chipmunk? Below average capybara? 

__

“Large rodent?” Jisung eventually landed on, after his brain came up empty. 

__

Minho chuckled at Jisung’s reaction. He tapped the head of the stuffed creature, right between the ears. “It’s a _quokka,_ Sungie.” 

__

“A quokka?” Repeated Jisung, unconsciously squeezing the plush a tad harder. 

__

“That’s right,” Minho continued. His expression became visibly fond. “We always joke that you look like one, so I couldn't resist when I saw it at the store.”

__

Jisung gave the plushie another once over, and began to grin; it _is_ a quokka! Probably around life sized, too. Jisung had no idea toys of these little guys even _existed,_ let alone that Minho would just _find_ one at a gift store in Seoul.

__

It's definitely not what Jisung expected as a _Valentine's Day_ gift, that's for sure. And it is absolutely perfect in every way, just as much. 

__

His smile became so wide, so beaming, he gave the permanent grin on the quokka’s stuffed face a run for its money. 

__

Jisung hugged the plushie to his chest, squishing it’s fluffy, squat body right above his heart. “I _love_ it, Min. Thank you.” 

__

Minho’s own skin blushed a lovely shade of rose, as he sidled up to Jisung and slung an arm around his shoulders. He ruffled Jisung’s hair with one hand, and the fur of the quokka with the other. “I’m glad, love.” He smooched Jisung on a blushing cheek, then teased, “Nothing says romance like a plush of your unofficial-official fursona, huh?” 

__

Jisung nodded, entranced on how his own smile looks slightly warped in the rounded glass of the quokka’s eyes. 

__

And it is at this very second, when life felt like the epitome of movie-perfection, that the universe decided to stick it’s ugly, starlight tongue out at Jisung. 

__

Jisung was about to plant one _right_ smack dab on Minho’s pretty pink lips, when—

__

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

__

Jisung shrieked at the sudden, terrifying wail, shoulders jolting up to his ears. His heart then promptly froze solid, because Jisung _knows_ that sound without a shadow of a doubt. Minho startled at the endless screeching from above, and inadvertently jumped a pace or two away from Jisung. 

__

Their wide eyes then traveled to the adjoining kitchen ceiling, and, lo and behold, what do they see?

__

The smoke detector, screaming and flashing like it’s the end of the fucking world. 

__

“Oh no,” Jisung whimpered, tripping over his feet as he whirled to face the kitchen. The pan, with the flames of high heat _still_ chomping on the cookware, is engulfed in _smoke._ Not just _some_ smoke, but a _cloud_ of thick, burnt, opaque smoke. _Bad_ smoke. 

__

The kind of smoke that should not be wafting from the pan of dinner Jisung may or may not have completely forgotten until right this second. 

__

“W-what’s that?” Asked Minho, waving away some wisps that have floated into the foyer. 

__

Jisung gulped, and murmured, “That’s our dinner.” 

__

That _was_ dinner probably would have been more accurate. 

__

Minho at least barked a laugh at such a statement, and, without another word, latched a hand on Jisung’s wrist and towed him into the kitchen. Jisung tightened his hold on the quokka plush in the crook of his arm, and braced for the worst. 

__

The sight in the pan is _not_ a pretty one, and that is putting it lightly. 

__

The cream has all but evaporated, nothing but a thin white tack coating the nonstick, the onions and garlic charred ashy and withered. It's hard to make anything out, through so much grey smoke. 

__

“Dang.” Said Minho, peering at the burnt-beyond-salvage ingredients from a safe distance. “That is...not great looking.” 

__

“Thanks.” Jisung deadpanned, eyes glassy and dazed, “Never would have thought.”

__

Jisung’s chest squeezed; so much for the meal he worked so hard on before Minho's arrival. 

__

As if this isn’t bad enough, and it most certainly _is_ bad, the universe went from sticking its tongue out to giving Jisung the fucking _middle finger._

__

A spark flew from the gas flames, and it caught on the rim of the pan, on the residual oil left on the surface. 

__

A small fire ignited in the center of the cookware, glowing orange and yellow against the dark smoke. And while it is a small fire, a _small fire_ is just as terrifying because it is still a _fire._

__

“S-shit!” Jisung choked, eyes popping wide in horror. His heart flipped upside down and inside out. “Minho, do something!” 

__

It’s Valentine's Day, and Jisung has lost his marbles. And their dinner.

__

He knows _he_ should do something, for the sake of Minho and his flat, but Jisung is at a complete and total loss. Panic has set in, rendering him frozen and speechless and paled. This is _his_ fault, yet here he stands, helpless and resigned as thicker puffs of smoke fill the air. Jisung has enough wits about him to recall that throwing water on a kitchen fire is _not_ a good idea, so he didn't make a move for the sink. Granted, he didn't make a move towards _anywhere._

__

Minho sent Jisung an appropriately incredulous look, brows shooting up to his feathery bangs. “Do something?! Do _what,_ Sung!”

__

The fire grew a touch larger, a touch taller, and the couple yelped in unison as concentrated heat cradled their cheeks. The drone of the smoke alarm is melting Jisung’s brain, and, unable to scrounge up a sound course of action, his grasp on the quokka plush went slack as his arms fell. 

__

Something about this movement must have made a lightbulb illuminate in Minho’s head. His eyes widened, reflecting that bright, terrifying orange within. 

__

Without explanation, Minho snatched the quokka out of Jisung’s limp fingers, and all but _slam dunked_ the poor stuffed critter into the pan. 

__

They held their breaths as the fire clawed at the plush, instantly singing artificial fur. The wait was agony, but the flames soon hissed, snapped, and…quieted. After a few more tense moments the fire smothered under the fur of the quokka, until nothing but smoke snuck out from beneath. 

__

The smoke alarm, which had been helpfully blaring this entire time, silenced on cue. The flashing and beeping ceased, which in itself sounded like music to Jisung's ears. 

__

Jisung and Minho let loose loaded sighs of relief once the crisis is officially averted, layered exhales dispelling the residual smoke into thin air. 

__

His shoulders sagging, Jisung droned, “Good one, babe.” 

__

Minho merely pushed some mussed hair from his eyes, before taking one of Jisung’s hands in his. With his other, Minho slipped his phone from his jeans pocket. 

__

Jisung found himself smiling, despite the fact that his kitchen just caught fire. 

__

Minho squeezed Jisung’s fingers a bit tighter, as he clicked his phone on. His expression is easy and knowing, loving, despite the fact that his boyfriend’s kitchen just caught fire.

__

“I’ll order us some delivery.” 

_**  
  
  
** _

💝

_  
  
  
_

“Poor guy.” Jisung pouted, before stuffing a mouthful of spicy rice cakes into his cheeks. 

__

The quokka is sitting on the coffee table, surrounded by boxes of their favorite delivery food, still smiling despite the burnt patches of fur along its side. One of the plush’s glass eyes has become loose, hanging from the stitching and appearing on the better side of morbid. Even the heart shaped tag in its ear is burnt around the edges, pink cardstock not very pink any longer. 

__

But, to Jisung, the plush is still positively splendid in every way. 

__

Minho nodded, as he swallowed a bite of fried chicken. “It didn’t even get a chance at life.” 

__

Even though they opened every window, if Jisung breathes in deeply enough his lungs still sear with the scent of smoke. Though it is nothing a whiff of Minho’s cologne can't fix. 

__

“Yeah, but,” Jisung snuggled closer to Minho on the couch, and entwined their hands when their knuckles knocked. “It gave _us_ another chance at life so...it was a worthy sacrifice.” 

__

Minho took a swig of his soda and smiled around the tab. “Obviously. I knew I picked out a good gift for you, I didn’t realize it’d be _this_ good.” 

__

Jisung can’t argue with that, though something about Minho's quip made his chest pang. Jisung frowned, eyes dewy. His gaze at the quokka plush became somewhat yearning. “You got me such a great gift,” he whispered, “And now it's burnt.” 

__

Now it’s _destroyed_. Partially, at least. But...fire is fire. Burnt is burnt. 

__

Yet such an astute observation did not seem to upset Minho in the least. He shrugged, “It gives it character. Honestly, I like it better like this. Now we'll always remember tonight when we look at it!” 

__

Minho sounds genuinely joyful and chipper, which brought Jisung a small comfort. While his boyfriend has a point, the notion of remembering _tonight_ when facing that quokka made his throat bob.

__

Jisung’s heart suddenly sank. It just hit him, fully, that _he_ ruined what was supposed to be their romantic Valentine’s Day dinner. He ruined Minho’s gift, too, despite how optimistic his boyfriend may be about its new look. All the adrenaline and relief has worn off, leaving Jisung feeling strange and uneasy. This night was supposed to be _perfect._ He was supposed to help _make_ it perfect. His eyes darkened, as he laid his head against Minho’s shoulder.

__

He sighed, “I’m sorry, babe. For ruining our date night, I mean.” 

__

As if taken aback, Minho silently placed his can of pop back on the table before responding. “How is it ruined? We’re having a wonderful date right now, aren’t we?” 

__

Jisung gulped, “I mean, _yeah,_ but—”

__

“But _nothing.”_ Minho declared, as he craned his head down to look _straight_ into Jisung’s eyes. He kissed the tip of his nose, stroking gentle lines across the back of his hand with his thumb. “I love you, Jisung. A quick kitchen fire isn’t going to change that.” 

__

Jisung’s heart filled to bursting, feeling so hot it could probably put said fire to _shame._ He feels like there’s a flame in his chest, pounding where his heart should be, warming him from head to toe. He feels as if smoke is about to snake from his chest, soon inciting the scream of the fire alarm once more. 

__

Jisung is _so_ lucky he has Minho, the honor of living alongside someone so beautiful inside and out. His love is burning like a wildfire, spreading through every cell, every atom, every fiber of his being. 

__

Minho's words ignited a spark of thought in Jisung's head. 

__

Everything went so wrong, but now, thanks to Minho, it all feels so _right._

__

And now that he thinks about it, _really_ thinks about it, tonight wasn't _that_ big of a disaster after all. They laughed, cuddled while eating the _tastiest_ delivery food in town, and extinguished a fucking _fire_. If that's not the perfect date night, Jisung doesn't know what is. 

__

It's a Valentine's Day to remember, that's for sure. And Jisung thinks doing just that, _remembering_ each time he views that poor quokka plush, will be the opposite of a chore. He thinks it'll be beautiful. 

__

“I love you too, Minho.” Whispered Jisung, landing a soft kiss on the sharp curve of Minho’s jaw. “More than anything.” 

__

And Minho’s subsequent giggle is like a songbird call, like a wave cresting, like a shooting star twinkling through the night sky. 

__

Cheeks pinker than before, Minho retrieved his can of soda, and held it out between them. 

__

His grin is beaming and brilliant, brighter than a fire. “Cheers, to the best Valentine’s Day yet.” 

__

Unable to quell his own cheek-splitting smile, Jisung found his can of pop, and clinked it against Minho’s. Aluminum clanged, making lukewarm bubbles burst. 

__

“Cheers,” 

__

He finally, _finally_ kissed Minho on his cat-smile lips, tasted the olive chicken on his breath, humming as if life is absolutely perfect.

__

And, in spite of the scorched quokka staring at them from the table, and the blackened pan in the kitchen sink, and the residual aroma of stale smoke in the flat, it most definitely is. That is not in question any longer. 

__

Jisung pulled away, but only for a moment. Only to whisper,

__

“To the best Valentine’s Day yet.”

**Author's Note:**

> pls tell me the ref to jisung's gods menu rap i slipped into the beginning was noticeable….lick it malhae bon hours: open
> 
> Idek what the heck this was or how i thought of it, like....I’m just out here writing words. Wild. I blame the Valentine’s Day quokka


End file.
